The Prussian Debate
by graysam
Summary: Germania is treated to a surprise when Rome shows up demanding to take Prussia and raise him by his great Roman self. Germania follows Rome, determined to take back Prussia. But Germania is swept up by Byzantine's plots, an insane Briton, and Rome's good looks. It leaves Germania homesick for his sheep-filled land, and sick of a red-faced Italian.
1. Shiny Men

Germania was used to Rome's general air of excitement. Well, saying he was 'used' to it implied that it no longer annoyed Germania; Rome still annoyed him, very, very much. However, the murmurs and whispers of Germania's men promised that when Rome inevitably showed up—again—he would be even more excited the usual. This didn't please Germania; not one bit.

It was a lovely day, and Germania was just stepping out of his home when he heard the marching. The dreaded marching. This simple act of a unified walking had become symbolical with one of the only men Germania knew who would travel with such a troop. However, Prussia, who was just waking up and standing next to Germania about to demand for breakfast, had never met Rome before, so the marching was brand new to him.

"Vater, what's that noise?" Prussia asked, tugging on Germania's hand. "Vater!" Prussia wailed, practically swinging on Germania's arm.

Germania shook off Prussia, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. "It's a cat-monster. Get inside and protect your bird." Well, it was close enough to the truth.

Ignoring Prussia's squeak and sounds of frantic wailing of him trying to capture his bird and protect it, Germania crossed his arms and waited as the procession of armed Roman guards stopped in front of Germania's door. Rome, of course, was sitting as proud as a peacock in the center of the group on his horse, eyeing Germania as he swung his leg off and swaggered over to Germania. The arrogant bastard.

"Germania!" Rome laughed, clapping Germania's back. "It's good to see you again! How have you been, freezing your arse up here? Why don't you ever come and visit me?" Rome pouted, struggling to wipe the smirk off his face.

Instantly, Germania bristled. "What are you smiling at?" Already, however, Germania could feel the pricks of dread at the back of his neck. He knew exactly what Rome was smiling about.

"Your hair!" Rome exclaimed, tilting his head. "You grew it out." Germania couldn't identify the tone in Rome's voice… it was a mix between amused, teasing and affectionate. Germania already saw the snickers of a few of the Roman guards.

"Why the hell are you—and your shiny men—loitering on my lawn. Get them off." With that, Germania fled—well, not fled, but hurried back inside his house and shut the door with a decisive 'thunk.' He ran his hand through his hair. Compared to the clean shaven Romans, he must look like a brute.

Prussia was staring at Germania. "That wasn't a cat-monster. That was a man. And he had the most magni—manfi—cool solider guys of ever seen! Can I have a big army like that too? Can I have a bigger army! Oh, they'll be all shiny like that guy's! Who was that, Vater? Huh? Who? Vater?"

It took a little under an hour until Rome barged into his home, with three people following. At first, Germania thought Rome had stolen some children on the way—to be slaves or some horrible thing like that. But as Germania looked closer, all three were a spitting image of Rome. It seems Germania wasn't the only one with a new kid hanging around.

Rome grinned at Germania, winked then presented the three kids. "Germania, meet my grandsons."

Germania stared and nervously ran his hand through his hair, though his face remained blank. The smallest ones seemed to be about the same age. One was grinning in the same incoherent way Rome did, with his eyes half closed and mouth wide open. His hair was a light auburn color, and he had a preposterous curl protruding from the left side of his hair.

The next one, who only seemed a year or two older, was completely opposite from his brother. He had a scowl on his face, dark, glaring eyes and a red face. He almost looked like an angry tomato. His hair was the same color as Rome's, a darker auburn, with a curl on the right side of his head.

The last one, who seemed to be oldest, had the smuggest grin on his face Germania had ever seen, even from the likes of Rome. He held his head high, and his brown hair fell into his eyes as he looked Germania up and down. He was like a more dangerous, mini-Rome. Germania blinked.

"This is Italy," Rome pointed to the first boy, "This is Romano," The second, "And this is Byzantine." Rome couldn't be more proud, showing off his grandsons. "Aren't they just adorable? It took me forever to wrangle them all together for a trip, Italy—or Feli—was off running around the Alps, Byzantine was off by the west end of the Mediterranean, doing gods knows what and Ro—"

"You traveled all the way to my _home_ to show your grandsons off to me?" Germania blinked at Rome, frowning slightly. "I would have thought you'd just drag me off to your Utopia, parading me around and them—"

"Oi! Bastard it's not like we like being up here!" Germania switched his attention to the tomato. "It's freezing and all you ever see is sheep." Romano's face deadpanned. "Why do you have so many sheep? You all smell like sheep, eat sheep and wear sheep."

Rome's face reddened and immediately he turned and cuffed Romano, hissing quietly. "You bastard! Keep your mouth shut!" Rome straightened and shrugged off the embarrassment of his grandson. "Sorry about that! I think sheep are quite fetching."

Germania sighed, and massaged his temples. "Rome, why are you here? Not that I'm not tickled pink but…" Germania couldn't help but be exasperated. Gods know how long he'd have to house Rome, his grandsons and his small army. And if Prussia—"Rome, why are you here?" Germania asked a little sharper.

Rome's face fell slightly, when he caught the look Germania was giving him. "Come on, don't be like that. You knew as soon as I heard I had to come up here and…"

In the most inconvenient and awful timing ever, Prussia poked his head from around the corner of the hallway, gazing at the fancy newcomers. "Hey, hey, Vater. Is that the leader of the shiny men—oh! He has minions for me!" Prussia scuttled over to Germania and stood proudly next to him, looking over Rome's grandsons.

Rome sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at Germania guiltily. "Germania, I've come to discuss the terms of Prussia and his parental and national care… In my hands."

* * *

**Yeah. Don't own Hetalia.**

**Anywho~ Yes. I am back because there is a shocking lack of Germania and Rome fics. This offends me as a person, which is a high offense. :D  
**

**Anyways, I may or may not be continuing my other fics. I would love to, but currently it's shifty. Like, the weatherman says there's a fifty-fifty for rain tomorrow. Take your chances and leave the umbrella. ;D (Whatever that means...)  
**

**This shall be rather short story, I thinks. And no little Germany yet. D: But little Prussia!  
**

**Anyways, review and have pretzels!**


	2. All Roads Lead to Narbonensis

It took nearly an hour for Rome's men to finally finish packing up their tents—which made no sense to Germania, because they had only stayed at his house for one night. It took Germania only ten minutes to gather his and Prussia's clothes and personal belongings together, ready the horse and both be saddled, waiting for Rome's slow men to do the same.

It hadn't been easy for Rome, Germania thought gloomily, to convince Germania to part ways with Prussia last night. In fact, Rome had failed so epically in his task Germania was now traveling with him to his homeland, all for the sake of keeping the albino in Germania's sight at all times. Of course, Germania planned at one point to return, but until he convinced Rome to let Prussia leave with him, Germania would be a reluctant guest at Rome's villa.

Prussia poked Germania in the back of the head. "Hey. Hey, Vater. Why are you going with Rome? I thought only I was going. I don't want you tagging along and ruining my fun! You always do, just like when I stole that herd of sheep and attacked the village—"

Germania sighed, glancing back at Prussia. "Because Rome isn't very nice to those who are beneath him."

"Hey!" Rome trotted up on his horse, grinning like a two-year-old. "I think I'm very nice to those under me. Especially in bed." He winked at Germania, before riding away and bellowing at his men to hurry up.

Germania felt his face warming up, but convinced himself it was because of the chill in the early morning air. After all, these Romans woke up at an ungodly hour to begin travel. All Prussia and Germania had time to eat was a quick slice of bread and cheese before being caught up in the commotion of having to leave home.

Finally, all Rome's military men were on their horses, and the group could move off. Germania was forced to ride behind Rome, with two neighboring guards beside him to make sure he couldn't escape. Germania rolled his eyes. Really, did Rome's men think he was going to make a break for it? They'd spear him before he got fifty yards.

The going was slow for the first day or two, as the group made their way out of Germania's territory and into the Roman Empire. Germania watched sadly as the trees of his homeland diminished the weather began to grow warm. When the party finally made their way to a road, Prussia was wailing about how cool the tract of rock was.

"Oh! Look Vater!" Prussia had yelped one day when it began to rain, "The roads clear off all the water to the sides so it doesn't turn to mud. Not that it would, because Rome's roads are made of stone! That's so exer—extera—amazing!"

Rome shot a cocky look back at Germania, who lowered his head as his face heated up. Not that Germania blamed Prussia's revere; roads were the backbone to the Empire, so naturally they had to be complex, if only to show Rome's extreme detail over everything and anything. Germania's roads were just as good, at least in his eyes…

As the party made their way further into the Empire, Prussia began to talk to Rome's grandsons, especially Feli, who would babble back about how amazing his Grandpa was and the Empire, in an adoring manor. Byzantine would chime in about Rome's import and exportation system to Germania, who couldn't care less about Rome's kingdom, and just wanted the constant squealing of young voices to stop.

On the eighth day of the journey, Germania realized that the party was still headed southwest, instead of southeast into the peninsula of Italy. Germania led his horse forward to Rome, intent of finding out if Rome was just lost, or wanted to show off his Empire to Germania more.

"Rome, where are we going?" Germania asked sharply. "We aren't headed to Italy…?"

Rome laughed, and Germania couldn't help but feel embarrassed, like he'd missed the joke a while ago and was just realizing it. "No, Gerhart," Germania blanched at Rome's 'human' name for him, "We're headed to Narbonensis."

Germania blinked at Rome. "Oh." That sure didn't help. The one thing Germania hated more than being paraded around by Rome was trying to remember all the territories he presided over. There was at least twenty. "Where… where would that be again?" Germania heard Prussia giggle.

Rome smirked and chuckled, "In Gual. We're headed to a port city there and sailing over. Gods know it take twice as long as to pass through the Alps and all the cities to reach Rome." He scratched the back of his neck and smiled apologetically. "I forgot to tell you…"

Germania, in his right state of mind would have reprimanded Rome, but for whatever reason the Empire's smile tugged on Germania's heart strings. Germania let out a huff before falling behind Rome again. Every time Germania gathered himself to verbally punish Rome for forgetting to tell him, the Empire would smile and Germania would lose his courage. Germania, after the fifth time of this happening, mentally stored the argument away for another time.

Germania saw the landscape slowly change as the party moved closer to shore. The small, country towns soon gave way to bustling cities. Despite how many times Germania traveled through Rome's territory, he always founded himself awed at the sheer majesty still found throughout the Empire, no matter how far from the capital Germania traveled.

Finally, the party arrived at the port city. Germania didn't know the name, as his written Latin wasn't so good, but this was the biggest city they had traveled through so far. The streets were crowded and loud with the sounds of merchants and slave dealers, every other corner had some tavern, and in the distance Germania saw a coliseum. Graffiti covered the walls, children ran through the streets and Germania couldn't help but notice the proud gaze Rome swept over the city.

Germania soon lost track of the maze of streets Rome led him through, but when he finally stopped in front of an eloquent villa, Germania was relieved. Germania stiffly got off his horse, stretching. Prussia hopped off, grabbed his bag of stuff and ran over to Feli and Romano, eager to discuss the city. Rome ordered the army men to the nearest military base to rest, and then turned to Germania.

"This is where we'll be staying tonight. The ship will be leaving early tomorrow morning, so I'll send one of my slaves to wake you up." Rome chirped.

Germania nodded, running his hand through his hair. "I'll have Prussia sleep with me." When Rome narrowed his eyes at Germania, he continued, "He tends to wet the bed, and unless you want to deal with that…"

Rome's eyes softened and he waved his hand. "Fine, fine. But if you do try to escape, you'll be caught." He smiled warmly at Germania for a moment, before sharply turning around to face the villa. "I have to greet the silly merchant and have dinner with him. You're welcome to join us, not that I think you will. I'll have one of the slaves bring you something to eat, if you don't." With that, Rome led his grandsons, Germania and Prussia into the house.

As soon as Germania was shown his room, he didn't leave. Prussia whined and complained, saying that he wanted to eat with Feli and Byzantine, but Germania ignored him. In Rome's house, Prussia could wander free, but in this stranger's house… Germania shook his head, and demanded for Prussia to go to bed.

Germania sat by the window, watching as the moon rose higher into the sky. Despite the exhaustion of the travel, Germania didn't feel tired. Besides, the chatter from the street and the crashing of the sea against the docks was grating, and Germania suspected he wouldn't sleep for much of the night.

Absentmindedly, Germania read through a scroll he had found; practicing his Latin never hurt. He wasn't sure for how long he read, trying to grasp the different endings of words—not to mention the numerous variations of 'and'—when Germania felt the back of his neck prickle, like he was being watched. Germania turned to find Rome standing at his shoulder, gazing softly at his long haired friend. Germania faintly wondered how long the Empire had been standing there.

Rome smiled sleepily, pointing at the scroll. "I like that story. From the Greeks, I thinks." He slurred his words and Germania realized Rome was drunk. "It's about some goddess or daughter of one. Hades fell in love with her, and stole her away to the underworld." Germania didn't mention he had read most of the scroll, and just listened to Rome talk. "But she didn't like it there. Too dark, and too many ghosts. She missed her home. Her mother demanded Hades to bring her back, but he refused. Eventually, the girl became so homesick Hades relented and made a deal with the girl's mother. For half the year, she would stay with him, and for the other half she would go home."

Germania nodded, and felt a rare smile on his lips. "Yeah. It at least has a somewhat happy ending. I like it too. It written pretty, as well."

Rome grinned at Germania. "Very pretty. I'm going to go pass out," He giggled, "Now. You keep reading, being pretty and reading them. Yeah." He turned to go, but said over his shoulder. "I like your hair long, by the way. Prettyy." Rome staggered out of the room, leaving one very confused and slightly flattered Germania behind.

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**No~ Hetalia is not mine. D:**

**So, yeah. *Waves hands* Chapter two! I'm thinking about doing the next chapter in Prussia's point of view, just to get some more interaction with Byzantine and the Italy Bros. And maybe England and Spain... Hmm... What do you guys think?  
**

**Anywho, question. Would all y'alls lovely readers prefer longer chapters with longer update times, or short chapters (around 1500 words)and short update times?  
**

**Thanks** Gently-BlueLeaves4080 **and **Spainbow Dash** for reviewing. You get pretzels~! :D Anyone else who started to stalk this story, thank you. You get mini pretzels.**

**Review and receive the best goshdarn homemade brownies you've ever tasted. **


	3. No, You're a Tomato

Germania realized he didn't like boats. It wasn't gradual, like one might realize they think and Empire is extremely annoying; no, as soon as Germania stepped onto this Roman boat, he knew he was in for one hell of a trip. It wasn't even like he was motion sick—it was Prussia. Because Prussia _liked_ boats. So he pretended to be a sailor with Feli. So, Feli and Prussia practically threw themselves overboard, pretending to fight pirates. They almost fell in. Twice.

Germania, keeping a wary eye on Prussia, who was in time out until he calmed down enough not to try and climb the sail rigging, gazed around the ship and the surrounding coastline. Really, Italy was quite pretty, with its happy palm trees, glistening beaches and cool breeze. Germania could almost imagine coming here and spending a few days swimming, or laying in the sun. But, usually Germania had to be home, teaching Prussia or defending his home from the enemies that never seemed to stop trying to steal what was rightfully his.

Prussia stomped up to Germania, looking into his eyes and interrupting the long haired man out of his thoughts. Then again, Germania was sitting on a bench he had found, so it wasn't very hard for the albino to do so.

"Vater. Vater. Hey, Vater."

"… What?"

"Can Feli and me go down to the—the—what cha' call it—hull, or whatever? I want to see if Rome has any captured citizens or pirates with him. In the ship, I mean. Because Rome went down there with Byzantine to talk, so he wouldn't be with the prisoners but…" Prussia scratched his head, his bird letting out an angry 'peep' when the albino disturbed its sleep. He had obviously lost his train of thought.

Germania sighed and nodded stiffly. "Sure, go ahead." Prussia's face lit up—"But so help me, if I found out you were spying on Rome…" Germania let his unfinished menace of the sentence sink in, and tried to keep the smile of his face at Prussia's 'squeak.'

"Ah—ah—of course, Vater! I would never dream of spying on Rome—FELI! Come on, Vater says we can go find the pirates—because he'd throw me to the lions after you were done with me—Feli!" Germania watched as the albino and the youngest Italian brother run below deck, causing several sailors to grumble.

Germania leaned back against the side of the ship, feeling some stress of Prussia falling overboard evaporate. Hopefully, Germania would be able to just sit on this bench for the rest of the voyage, without wily Rome or wailing Prussia to disrupt him. Germania hoped Byzantine would keep the Empire busy with his discussions.

For a while, Germania just listened to the waves against the boat, falling into a doze. Suddenly, however, he felt a small fist punch him in his stomach. Germania sat up, and turned a intimidating glare to whoever had dared disturbed him. The blonde was met with the impassive face of Romano, who was snacking on a tomato sitting next to him on the bench. Truthfully, Germania had forgotten about Romano. With his younger brother's charm and the intelligent talk of the eldest, Romano was the forgettable child. After all, he didn't do much more than munch on food and call his brothers stupid…

"My Grandfather made you out to be a lot more impressive." Romano said suddenly. "But all I've seen you do is worry over the albino and flirt with Nonno."

Germania blinked at Romano. "Oh? What did he say about me?" Germania pointedly ignored the jab about the flirting; hoping Romano would catch the hint.

Romano munched on his tomato slowly, reflecting. "Well, he said you were smart. But you got lost when we past three signs saying where we were going to the port town. He said you were strong—his bodyguard, but Nonno's bigger than you… He also said you were handsome. But I'm beginning to think you hair just makes you look like a girl, so he should've said pretty…"

Germania felt his face heat up, and he clenched his fists. How _dare_ this pipsqueak go out of his way just to anger the older nation. Who did he think he was? "Oh? Is that what he said? Because he never mentioned anything about you to me—in fact, when I first saw you I though he had managed to grow a tomato with arms and legs; but he forgot the brain." Germania instantly regretted what he had said. Romano was just a little kid, obviously ignored, so that was probably just a plot for attention.

Romano stopped eating his tomato and frowned. "You though I was a _tomato_? What the hell?"

Germania blinked; slightly surprised that was what Romano had picked up on. "Um… Your face is red all the time. It looks like…" He gestured toward the fruit Romano was holding.

Instantly, the younger boy stood up on the bench next to Germania. "Take that back!" Romano shouted, face heating up. "I do _not_ look like a tomato!" Germania saw Romano's eyes begin to get red—like he was holding back tears. Apparently, Germania had hit a nerve.

Some of the sailors were beginning to stare at the pair, and Germania wanted to appease the upset toddler. "Hey, hey! I didn't really—I'm sorry—"

"You know what—what _you_ look like?" Romano shouted, stomping his foot. "A sheep! That's right, you bastard! A _sheep_!" He smiled, obviously thinking this was a good insult. Whatever insult made the kid happy, Germania was happy to accept.

"Romano?" Came a sudden deep voice.

Both Germania and Romano whipped around to find Rome standing before them, a puzzled look on his face. Germania realized this was the second time he didn't know how long Rome had been watching him. Romano blinked, obviously wondering when Rome had gotten there as well.

"Why are you calling Germania a sheep?" Rome asked, tilting his head. Germania couldn't read the expression on his face; Rome could have been bemused, extremely angry or anything in between. Germania looked at Romano, who grinned triumphantly.

Romano pointed to Germania. "He said my face looked like a tomato!"

Germania looked back at Rome, half expecting him to start screaming at Germania for calling his—the great Roman Empire's—grandson a tomato. After a tense pause, Rome burst into giggles.

"Romano, your face _does_ look like a tomato! Especially when you get angry. It's nothing to be upset over." Rome smiled pleasantly, and then glanced at Germania. "But Gerhart doesn't look anything remotely like a sheep."

Romano blanched. His entire blush instantly faded, and he just stared up at Rome. Then, the color came flooding back and Romano simply yelled, "You're a tomato!" Before running away below deck.

Germania glanced back up at Rome, who stared after Romano. "I think I might have just emotionally scarred my grandson."

For the rest of the journey, Rome chatted to Germania about each part of Italy they sailed by. Germania now knew what each section of Italy grew the best olives, where the biggest farms tended to be and the best fishing spots for each species of fish. Just in case Germania was ever captured by bandits and his life depended on knowing whether grapes were better in the north or south of Italy, and in which time of the year they were the juiciest and prime for harvesting.

However, the wind began to pick up and it took an additional three hours for the ship to finally make port—during the intermediate time Rome chattered about new sailing techniques he had discovered—and by then the city people had receded back into their homes with the night. Germania was faintly disappointed not to see Rome during the late afternoon rush, but was still blown away by the size and grandeur of the architecture. There were a lot of arches, Germania thought absentmindedly.

At the dock, the party of Roman guards finally left to go back to their military base. Germania wasn't used to the smaller group, and was equally as wary about no one to guard the three youngest members. Byzantine obviously had the same worry, as he forced the Italy brother's shared horse into the center of the group and guarded the back. Prussia was again demoted to sitting behind Germania instead of his own horse. Rome, however, seemed completely oblivious to the nighttime fears and led the group to his home.

Rome's personal estate was something Germania was used to. Mainly because he had been there for most of its building and the subsequent additions that had formed the mighty villa the party now marched into. As soon as the party walked into the courtyard, several slaves darted out of the shadows to take away the horses and bring the bags to the traveler's rooms. Germania felt slightly relieved to finally be done with the journey, and just wanted a good night's rest before battling over governing rights with Rome over Prussia.

After eating a hurried dinner, washing Prussia and settling him and his damnable bird to bed, Germania was relaxing in his personal bathroom. Specifically, soaking in the best bath he had ever taken. Germania felt the grime and stress of the past few days slowly drain away with the warm water. He dozed, having strange dreams about red sheep.

Germania was awoken, violently, from a crash, and he sat up in the bath, wondering how long he had been out. Germania searched the room and realized that one of the bottles of perfume had been knocked over. However, Germania couldn't possibly have reached all the way over to the table at the other end of the room to do it. Someone else was here in the room.

There was a scuttle, and Germania whipped around to see a small child with blonde hair disappearing into his bedroom—and subsequently the hallway. By the time Germania had gotten out of the tub and gotten a towel wrapped around himself, the child was gone.

Germania was puzzled. None of Rome's slaves had been blonde—or that young. Prussia's hair wasn't that color either… in fact, the only other person with that color hair was Germania himself. So who did the child belong to, and why was he watching Germania bathe?

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**Holy Glob. This was insane to write. I didn't think the boat scene would take so lonnnggg. I didn't even get to introduce England! Or Spain, for that matter. D:**

**And so we start with the plot twists. There shall be a few. If anyone was interested, this takes place toward the end of the Roman Empire's reign. (Which is why we have Byzantine~!) So, this now gives me license to throw in some (happy) young nations before the Dark Ages.  
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**Oh- thanks to **Spainbow Dash **for the review, and any new stalkers who watched this story. Three reviews. *Nods* Freakin' awesome!**

**Review and get ice cream with sprinkles!  
**

**Trivia question, for the few people who read this story! Which character(s) have yet to utter their famous catch phrase(s)?  
**


	4. The Origin of 'Ve'

Germania awoke the next day greeted by an angry looking blonde. He was young, a few good inches shorter than Prussia anyways, and he had the biggest eyebrows Germania had ever seen. The boy gently shook Germania's shoulder, obviously unaware he was already awake. Germania sat up in bed and frowned at the boy, tilting his head.

"Who are you?" Germania asked, running his hand through his hair.

The boy blinked up at Germania. "I'm England. I was brought here against my will from my island. Rome sent me to wake you up, because he wants to show you all of us. The… the people he rules over. He's too bloody proud of us, if you ask me. He shows us off to anyone and everyone. I'd rather be home, you know. I have to make this sacrifice of the faeries will be angry with me, and I _do not_ want that.

"Oh, I also washed your clothes that I found in your bag and put them in the bathroom. I also fed the white-haired boy and got his bird out of a rain gutter." Germania blinked, He had lost track of the conversation in the middle there. The blond by didn't seem to be malicious, but a sacrifice…?

Germania coughed. "Thank you England, for that. Ah… Prussia isn't in any trouble, is he? He didn't knock over anything or…" Germania trailed off; almost feeling belittled at the look England gave him. Obviously, Prussia had knocked over several things and England blamed Germania for not watching over him.

England rolled his eyes than padded quietly out of Germania's room. Germania sighed and rubbed the back of his head. The territories Rome ruled over were a strange lot, and Germania was never sure how he should address them; as someone above him or below. The few times he saw the governed territories Germania tried to completely ignore their presence. Germania treated Prussia like his son, Rome a grandfather to the Italy Brothers and Byzantine, but Rome treated other territories like a business associates. Germania wasn't sure whether or not he was on the same level as Rome and if he had the authority to treat them as younglings. Germania hoped he wasn't forced to interact too closely with them today.

After a quick washing and brushing of the hair, Germania quietly slipped into the hallway. Germania headed toward the atrium, where he guessed the territories would be waiting for Rome to talk. On his way there, Germania caught sight of Feli, who was half out of a doorway, talking to someone inside. Germania tilted his head and walked over to him, listening to the conversation.

"So, I'll call you Pasta, like a codename~! You can call me Ve, because you can't say Feli, and Fe would just sound strange, and Li is just weird, so, so, if I say 'pasta' I'm trying to talk to you—oh someone's coming! Bye, Pasta! I'll see you later, okay?" Italy hurriedly shut the door as Germania approached, smiling and waving at Germania.

"Who were you talking to?" Germania asked, looking down at the child with what he hoped wasn't a scary face. He honesty wanted to know who Feli was talking to, and Germania's naturally stern face might scare Feli into silence.

Italy bit his lip, looking torn. "Ah… Pasta. I was talking to Pasta, who's my friend. He—ah, said not to say anything about where he is because he's not supposed to be here and he might get in trouble." Feli looked down, frowning. "I probably shouldn't have said that, either. Don't go in there." He pointed at the door.

Internally, Germania was torn. He was equally affected like anyone else told not to go investigating—Germania now had the intense desire to go snooping in the room to find the forbidden house guest, but also didn't want to upset Italy. Somewhere at the back of Germania's mind, he decided to go investigate later on, when Feli couldn't stop him. In the meantime, however…

"Er… England said Rome wanted to show me—" Germania began, before being interrupted by the excitable Feli.

"Oh, yeah! Big brother Spain and Big Brother France! Byzantine I think's gonna' yell at them. Or there's something like that." Italy's face fell, and he slumped against the door. "I wish everyone could be happy, but now whenever Spain or France come, it's to fight over grain or silk. I remember when we all used to be friends…"

Germania didn't like seeing Italy sad; in fact, this was the first time Germania had seen the little auburn haired boy emotionally sober the entire time knowing him. Germania, in an attempt to cheer Italy up asked, "Where's Prussia?" Italy and Prussia seemed to be good friends, so maybe—

"Oh, he's talking to France and Spain. But before you can meet them, you have to help me find Romano. Whenever Spain comes he hides. Come on!" Italy grabbed Germania's hand and headed off down a corridor. "Ve~"

Germania had no choice but to follow Italy, slightly confused at Italy's rapid mood swings. Feli reminded Germania of Rome on so many levels, with his shifting emotions and cheerful face; Germania couldn't help but feel affectionate for the boy. Why reminding Germania of Rome created affection, Germania didn't even want to dwell on the matter.

Eventually, Italy led Germania into a small courtyard. The courtyard was pleasant, with a gurgling fountain, a small patch of wildflowers and one tree with low branches perfect for sitting on. Romano was indeed in this tree, feet swinging and munching on pizza, his back facing the entrance where Germania and Italy were standing. Germania almost didn't want to disturb the dark haired nation, but Italy had no such qualms.

"Romanoooo~! Nonno wants everyone in the atrium! You can't stay here all day eating. Plus, Spain says he had tomatoes for you. Come accept the gift!" Italy chirped, letting go of Germania's hand and walking under the branch Romano was perched on.

Germania noticed Romano stiffened, and he glared down at Italy. "Tell stupid Spain he can keep the tomatoes. And I'm not listening to anything Grandpa says, either." He crossed his arms. "I won't go. Not even if you try to drag me there… I-I'll kick your teeth in. They probably don't even want me and my red face around…" Germania felt slightly guilty; Romano was still upset of the tomato insult.

Italy frowned for a moment, and then brightened. "Oh, hey, I don't have to drag you! I brought Germania, he can just carry you!" Italy clapped his hands and looked expectantly at Germania, gesturing toward Romano. "Well?"

Romano nearly fell out of the tree in his haste to whip around and see Germania. His face reddened, and his eyes widened. "W-what? No! You-you stupid blond-haired smelly freak! Don't you dare t-touch me or I'll get Nonno to feed you to the lions!"

Germania was bewildered at Romano's strong reaction. Italy, however, didn't even seem phased. "Well then Romano, get down from the tree and come see big Brother Spain and Big Brother France!" Germania was stunned at Italy's simple wit, and almost amused when Romano jumped down from the tree and glared sullenly at Feli.

"They aren't my brothers. We aren't even related…" Romano continued to grumble as he marched into the hallway, heading toward the atrium.

Italy grabbed Germania's hand and led him after Romano, humming to himself. Germania couldn't resist, "That was actually really clever."

Italy looked at Germania, confused. "What was clever?"

Germania stared back. "Saying that… With Romano. I would never touch him." Romano would probably punch him in the face…

Italy blinked up at Germania. "Oh…" He smiled, shrugged and continued to lead Germania to the atrium, humming again. Apparently, Feli had been serious when he said he would get Germania to carry Romano. Germania sighed and put the incident out of his mind, after all, he _was_ Rome's grandson.

As the pair neared the atrium, Germania saw Romano standing in the doorframe, absorbed in whatever was going on inside. Italy and Germania stopped next to him, looking inside as well. A tall brown haired boy Germania remembered to be Spain was supporting Prussia on his shoulders. The pair was pressed up against one of the columns supporting the roof of the atrium, though teetering from side to side. Prussia's yellow bird had managed to fly itself up and perch itself in a crack of the column, and Prussia was trying vainly to help it fly out onto his head. Spain was having trouble supporting Prussia, as the albino was roughly the same size. Germania knew this wouldn't end well. A blond stood nearby, grinning up at the pair. Germania figured this must be big brother France, who was helping the situation by occasionally poking Spain in the stomach.

After absorbing the situation for one horrible minute, Germania shouted, "Prussia! Get down from there _this instant_ or I will tan your hide so well you won't be able to sit down for a month! The bird can _fly_, for gods' sakes! How do you think it got up there? _Prussia_!" The floor was marble, and Prussia would easily smash his skull open. Germania decided Rome wouldn't be happy cleaning up blood stains on his nice white floor. And, well… Germania didn't want Prussia to bleed out, either.

Prussia didn't even look back at Germania as he reached for his bird. "No, Vater, I almost have 'im…"

Romano, sighing remorsefully at what he was about to do, shouted over to Spain. "Oi. Drop the albino. The bird can fly down for all I care. One of ya' will get hurt. And, more importantly, give me my tomatoes!"

Spain, seeing Romano and grinning like a dog that was just given a bone upon, instantly shrugged his shoulders and dropped Prussia, who landed with a thud onto his rump. However, he had managed to catch his bird. Spain skipped over to Romano and held his arms open, expecting a hug from Romano.

"Hug?" Spain asked, the most hopeful look Germania had ever seen plastered on his face. When this guy wanted a hug, he really wanted a hug.

Romano blinked, gazed around the room, opened his mouth—

"Spain, when will you learn to keep your perverted hands off my younger brother?" Germania looked around, searching for the source of the voice, and saw Byzantine glaring at Spain, arms crossed in an adjacent hallway. "He doesn't like you, he likes your tomatoes. You're being used." He smirked at his last statement, moving further into the atrium.

Spain's face hardened and he stood up, turning to look menacingly ay Byzantine. "Well, at least I share what's mine, and don't hog it for myself." Spain looked back down at Romano, who blushed and looked away quickly. "And don't you assume to know what Romano thinks of me." Spain spat, and marched over to where France and Prussia where standing, tearing his eyes away from Romano and glaring at Byzantine instead.

Byzantine snorted, looking between France and Spain. "So, which one of you wants to complain about me _this_ time to Rome? I sent you your stuff, whether or not your people are capable to handle goods is not my problem, and I shouldn't be held responsible."

Prussia, sensing the tension, frowned at Byzantine. "Hey, I thought you were cool. Calm down, man. No need to start a war with words, is there?" He attempt to laugh, but fell silent when Byzantine glared at him. "Okay, no jokes. Seriously, though."

France rolled his eyes. "He started it, when 'e went and stopped sending us food. I am not sure if you noticed, but we rely on you for food in the west. Send it." Spain nodded in agreement.

Germania was quickly losing control of the situation. When Italy said his brothers fought, Germania didn't think they'd dislike each other enough to rip each other's throats out after five minutes. For the sake of reason, Germania stepped forward.

"I don't know the whole situation, but let's all take a deep breath and calm down." Germania tried to smile, but was met with three icy glares. Germania hoped Rome would show up, before his territories clawed each other's eyes out… And Germania's.

* * *

**Wow. Over two thousand words. Longest yet. :D**

**Finally, we get to Spain, England and France. And I know I should probably call England Britain, but I'm just going to go ahead and ignore that fact and plow on calling 'im England.  
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**And... You have the meeting of the Bad Touch Trio, the origin of 'Ve' and Spamano. This chapter had to be split in two. That's how big this darn scene is. And not to mention Germania still has to talk to Rome about Prussia and investigate Pasta. This is a ridiculously long day. *Flail*  
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**Anywho, thank** Spainbow Dash** for reviewing. You are good person, and get some Twix bars. *Throws candy* And thank you to all the new alerts and stalks! :) (Thank you for reading!) **

**Review and get s'mores!  
**


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